“On our way back up here, we found my tree and had to make arrangements for it. That sweet boy of Carrie’s who works here offered to deliver it when he finishes his shift,” Maybelle pointed out. “Now we’re cold and need a round to warm us up.”

“There’s not an empty table,” Rosie stated the obvious, giving Sarah and Bodie an expectant look since there were empty chairs at their table.

Wincing at how painfully obvious her friends were, Sarah met Bodie’s gaze. Her eyes were full of pleading that he’d understand and not judge the women too harshly.

In all actuality, he found them entertaining, if a bit annoying. And he admired their dedication to Sarah. How many women out there had people who cared so much about them that they’d go out in such ridiculous get-ups? He’d venture to guess not many.

Sarah gave him an apologetic look, as if she expected him to be furious. That surprised him. Did she have any idea how often he spotted one of them around town? If he was going to get angry, surely she knew it would have already happened by now.

Leaning back in his chair to more fully eye them, he asked, “Maybe you’d like to sit at our table?”

All three women nodded their approval. As they began peeling off green layers, Bodie stood and helped them with their coats, putting the hideous combinations on the chair backs.

When they’d finished unloading their outerwear and had headed to the counter to order, Sarah sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a problem.” He’d been interrogated by worse.

“See if you’re still saying that by the time they’re through with us. They don’t understand the concept of subtle.”

No. That much was obvious.

“What exactly is it they’re doing?”

She shrugged. “Spying. Matchmaking. Who knows what all they’re up to?”

The spying, Bodie was fully aware of. The blue-haired one had even pretended to be out running one morning, complete in a purple velour jogging suit. He’d managed to evade having to say more than a quick hello to her by keeping his head down and his headphones cranked up.

He understood why they’d want to know more about a man who was spending so much time at Sarah’s home alone with her. The matchmaking, though… that one had him puzzled. Why would the women who obviously cared for Sarah try to match her with a stranger who wouldn’t be in town long?

“Why are they matchmaking?”

“Because I’m twenty-five and single, and they believe it their duty to marry me off to the first willing man in Pine Hill.” Realizing how he might take her words, Sarah’s cheeks flushed as brightly red as Mrs. Harvey’s apron.